A Rider not a Potter
by Skipper Classified
Summary: At the Age of two Harry James Potter was kidnapped from his family home in Godric Hallows and thrown into the Veil of Death. Fourteen years later his name comes out of the goblet of fire. There's only one Little problem. Thirty year old Ian Rider is no Harry Potter. Nor does he have any intentions of playing by anyone's rules. Alive! Lilly and James! Reincarnated! John Rider as...
1. Chapter 1

He was going to die, of that Ian Rider had no doubts as he stared down the barrels of Yassen Gregorovich's guns.

For a brief moment his mind drifted to Alex, the Newphew who he had raised to the best of his abilities, with luck the blond haired teen would never find out what truly happened. And if they abided by his wishes Jack would gain custody of the Lad until he was old enough to look after himself, of course he highly doubt Alan Blunt would allow it and would Probally try using this to the Bastards own advantage.

Giving a brief nod to the Russian Man his brother had once mentored, the British Spy closed his eyes in acceptance as the first bullet shattered glass and pierced his right shoulder. Six more shot quickly follows causing his body to jerk and yank on the wheel, forcing the car off road.

' _Sorry Alex, looks like I won't be making it to that game after all.'_

Right before he lost consciousness the spy swore he saw a bright light, the night sky which was abruptly followed by screaming.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich couldn't help but frown as he stared at the inside of Ian Rider's convertible.

Briefly Yassen had considered just letting the younger man bleed out- if the crash had yet to kill him- when the car in its driver went over the Cliffside railing. It would have been a sense of mercy in more way than one for the spy.

Yet as he stared over the broken guardrail at the smoking wreckage an old memory decided to plague the Russian.

Once, a day- more like nine hours, before Hunter's death he had promised to look after the man's brother and son should any thing happen to him.

 **'Knowing My Brother he would probably end up treating Alex like an adult and completely neglect his own health if neither I nor My Wife were around to constantly remind him. If I didn't know better I would probably believe someone replaced him with an some state of the art robot years ago.'**

Nine hours late John Rider- Codename: Hunter; Double Agent of MI6 and Scorpia- boarded a plane with his wife bound for France. Moments afterwards the plane erupted into a fiery ball of death as a bomb, somehow planted on the plan went off.

No matter how merciful of an act it would be, he could not nor would he allow Ian Rider to die, especially like this. Ensuring the safety was on, the assassin sheathed his guns back into their hoisters before cautiously making his way towards the wreckage.

The once beautiful silver BMW was a nightmare once it finally came into view.

There was blood splatter onto the interior and the gagged shattered windshield. The Frame, once a masterpiece, was bullet ridden though some of the frame was missing and other parts had gorges scratched into it. The door were jammed shut- happening sometime during the fall- impossible to open from either inside or out. Though it didn't seem to matter as the Russian was close enough to look inside:

Bullet slugs littered the inside. Hitting both the driver and passenger seats along with the mirror and steering wheel which had forced the airbag to be released- though with the air having escaped it did little to no good.

The interior was stained a copper red that could only be one thing: Blood. Not that sit was all that surprising seeing how many rounds Yassen had purposely emptied into the other man- Okay maybe he was still slightly angry with the spy concerning the incident at Albert Bridge in Malta.

The driver's seat belt was still fasten snuggly yet besides that the vehicle-and the area around it- was deserted.

Ian Rider, nor his bullet ridden corpse, was anywhere to be fount. Frowning the Russian allowed his eyes to move area hoping to find a trail of some sort that could explain the others disappearance.

Unfortunately there wasn't even a slight bent to the grass, It was impossible but somehow Ian Rider was gone, almost as if he had just vanished into thin air.

* * *

He never meant to die. It was never susposed to have happened, not when he was so close to finally helping his family escape the clutches of what he was certain was a corrupted MI6 chain of commander.

He recalled having left his son, Alexander- Alex for short- with his Younger Brother, Ian.

He recalled boarding the plane and sitting next to his lovely wife Helen, tightly gripping her hand in assurance before they were to take off.

Then there was an overwhelming heat and and twisted metal as the plane exploded only seconds before their escape. Just like that John and Helen Rider had died

What John hadn't expected though was to wake within a delivery room in the arms of a woman named Walburga Black. She had smiled down at him with a sense of pride shinning brightly in her eyes.

On November 3, 1959; a month after the Death of John Rider, Sirius Orion Black was born.

Through the years ahead the spy turned Wizard would find himself thrown through many trails :

The Murder of his Younger Brother, Regulus Black, at the hands of the Dark Lord.

Peter's betrayal of his best friend, James Potter, and his wife Lilly that had led to their almost deaths.

The Kidnapping of his God Son by Death Eaters that had ended with two year old Hadrian James Potter being thrown through the Veil of Death.

After that he had managed to acquire a job as the DADA Professor with Remus Lupin taking over for Binns as the new History Professor. James had followed their once dream of becoming an Auror while Lilly was now a stay at home- if you called Hogwarts home that is- Mother of two, a son named Charles- A proud twelve year old Gryffindor and a daughter names Violet, a shy but rather intelligent fourteen year old Ravenclaw.

Over the next fourteen years he would spend time teaching and every now and then wondering how both Ian and Alex were doing.

And then it happened, on his fourteenth year of working at Hogwarts, Harry Potters name came out of the Goblet of Fire.

For a unnerving moment silence had filled the Great Hall, then there had been a bright flash of light from the goblet. When it cleared the body of a man in his mid twenties was laid out on the floor in a rapidly growing pool of blood.

Someone- Maybe it was him? -screamed before the room was sent into Choas.

Lunging over the table, Sirius Black rushed towards the down man that he recognized immediately as Ian Rider.


	2. Chapter 2

"Harry Potter."

The moment the words left his lips a sense of upmost triumph filled Albus Dumbledore, for once everything was going according to _his_ plan.

When he had placed the child's name into the Goblet he hadn't been quite sure it would be chosen since the child had been murdered, via the Veil of Death, almost fifteen years ago and as far as he had known the Goblet didn't stretch into the boundaries of Death.

Still it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Dead or not, Harry Potter was needed and if the Goblet didn't work he would all too happily resort to more...

Underhand methods. Yet now it wasn't necessary, Harry's name had been called.

A blinding light filled the room and the aged wizard could hear a thump from the lights core, indicating a body hitting the floor. When the light faded, Dumbledore had expected to see a teenage James with Lilly's eyes, young and influenceable, someone he would be able to guide and mold into the perfect little sacrificial lamb and weapon for the Light.

What he didn't expect to find was a thin man with fair hair wearing a muggle suit bleeding out on the Great Hall's floor. For a moment silence reigned supreme before Sirius Black- of all people- with a look of upmost horror screamed and jumped from his seat with Madame Poppy quickly behind him. As if finally broken from a spell the students themselves began to scream and several rose to their feet.

Casting a quick Sonorus onto himself, Albus attempted to reign in the chaos that had filled the Great Hall with one thought drifting in the back of his head:

This was not part of **_his_** plan.

* * *

The first thing Ian Rider was aware of was- ironically- the lack of pain. For a guy who had quite recently been shot full of bullets he felt quite well, much better then he had in years to be honest.

Then came the fact he was even alive to even be aware of anything at all. Lord Above, how had he even survived that? A bit hesitantly, the spy opened his brown eyes and glanced around the room.

He was in a bit of a stiff, yet surprisingly comfortable hospital bed that could honestly say he didn't recognize. There were curtains drawn shut around him, probably indicating to an older fashioned Medical Wing and beyond that curtain would no doubt be more bed like the one he was in. Maybe even the Doctor tending to other patients.

Had- by some miracle- someone stumbled across the wreck and somehow brought him here before he could meet an untimely death or bleed out? Or had Gregorovich decided a quick death of bleeding out with raptured organs was too good for his revenge against Ian "killing" 'Hunter' and had Ian brought to a Scorpia base- maybe even his own- just to torture him more? Choosing only to patch him up so he wouldn't die before the Assassin was satisfied.

Unfortunately enough the second one seemed much more possible and logical then the first ever could. He had specifically chosen that road due to the fact only four to five people used it every few weeks.

Still if Gregorovich had him why wasn't he restrained? Surely after their years of doing this the Russian wouldn't underestimate him this badly?

Frowning and mildly insulted, Ian Rider pushed the covers back before hanging his feet over the side of the bed, just barely allowing his toes to graze the cold marble below. Bracing himself for whatever laid waiting for him beyond the curtains, the spy stood and bushed them aside in a quick firm gesture.

The furious face that glared directly into his own wasn't Yassen Gregorovich and for a moment relief had filled the British man, though later- after being verbally chewed to pieces and having said pieces spat back out- Ian would find himself greatly regretting it wasn't.

At least with Yassen he knew exactly what to expect. He would gladly take a million of Yassen Gregorovichs over one of the Demonic Nurse known as Poppy Pomfrey.

* * *

If there was one thing that would never fail to amuse Sirius Black it was watching grown man, usually the strongest of the strong, cower before an irritated but pleased Madame Poppy Pomfrey.

Though he would never tell her for fear of his future children, the DADA Teacher was almost a hundred percent certain that the woman was part dragon, so he couldn't find my fault for usually brave men bending to her every whim. Though it wouldn't stop him from poking and prodding said men for years to come.

The fact it was Ian _'Possible Android Replacement'_ Rider doing such only seemed to cause Sirius' grey eyes to twinkle with humor and barely hidden mischief.

This was defiantly going in his scrapbook _of 'Things I will Eternally hold over my Little Brother's Head' -_ he and his beloved Helen had started quite literally a lifetime ago-, right next to _'Christmas Incident'_ from several years back.


	3. Chapter 3

"No. Absolutely not."

"But the Contract-"

"Then get me a Lawyer, " Ian couldn't help but growl as he old man standing next to the couple claiming to be his parents. Like Hell would he risk life and limb for something he didn't sign up for.

Sure he could accept magic, espically after seeing Black turn into a dog before his very eyes. He could accept that somehow a cup full of blue fire had indirectly saved his life by 'Summoning' him. He could accept the Demon Marton was most likely confinding him to this bed for God knows how long. He could partically accept that the poor couple staring hopefully at him had probally been tricked by that Damn Old Man with twinkling eyes -which remindined far too much of Alan Blunt for his liking.

What he could not accept though was the fact that Dumbledore- what type of name was that?- kept repeatly calling him 'Harry' or 'My Boy'.

How many times much he point out his name is Ian Rider not Harry James Potter?

He _would not_ accept he had been illeageally entered into a tortument that was known to kill people- _they didn't even use his real name!-_ and was now appreantly unable _not_ to compete.

And he outright ** _refused_** to accept the fact they wanted to send him **_back_** to school.

"My Boy surely such legal matters aren't necessary. All-"

"Not necessary!?"

Ian could feel his usually well kept anger raising as he flexed his finger, resisting the urge to reach for his gun. What type of idiot was this man?

"I've been illegeally entered into a dangerous and life threatening torment under a name thats not even mine! I'm not sure what type of dunderhead you are but that is defiantly call for legal action if I have ever seen one. You're just lucky I'm not looking into charging anyone with kidnapping as well!"

"Harry-"

"My name is Ian!"

God he was beganing to sound like a broken record with the way this was going.

Taking a firm breath the spy forcibly shoved his emontions into a corner of his mind before locking them away. Getting emontional would only distract him, espaicaly seeing as a majority of what he was feeling revolved around frustrated anger and the extreme desire to just shot the man before him.

* * *

A competent lawyer- nothing like the one that Dumbledore had tried getting him to use- had finally arrived and was holding a proper investigation though a few issues had arisen:

The paper that had held Harry Potter's name had suddenly and quite abruptly been 'misplaced' only after his lawyer requested it- before that everyone seemed to have had stared at it with a sense of awe- which ruled out using writing comparison to find the culprit.

The 'Government Officials'- What sort of ongoing joke put a man like that as Minister?- in charge of running this Circus was refusing to allow the Lawyers or Private Detective he had hired anywhere near the damn goblet that had kidnapped him.

The Potters had taken to activity stalking him and saving him from every little thing that could case him any sort of pain: A falling book, a loose step, splinters from running his hands along an old wooden rail, real food and not that mash up- worse then baby food- nonsense.

It was slowly but surely driving Ian insane. He was a Spy, not a toddler! And he did not appreciate being treated like one.

Leaving his lawyers to deal with the 'Blown Out of Portion Circus' that this whole ordeal was becoming, Ian decided to do his own little investigation into the rules of this damn torment.

* * *

It was clear now, no one in this Wizarding Word had a lick of common sense, nor did they. Ever.

The rules clearly stated he would have to compete but they never said to what extent. Hell, he didn't even have to stay in this castle as long as he showed up or each of the three tasks. Of course he didn't actually have a way off the island yet, but he was certain with time he could find one that didn't involve swimming past the Giant Squid they kept in the lake- Where was Nemo when he was needed?

According to the Charter though, he could walk on the field and walk right off, therefore having fulfilled the requirements set by the rules. He could even call in a Champion to compete each task for him since he fell into the lines of 'Accidental Non-magical Entrance'.

Still Ian couldn't help but feel as through having someone else fight his battles- if he couldn't find a legal way out- wouldn't go other well with the people here as everyone seemed to expect a mastery of impossible from him.

God, if he got killed for the entrainment of a whole world of idiots...

Quickly Ian shook his head. No, he _would not_ be killed like this, especially if he could find a way out of this torment. He _would_ find his way out of this mess and then he **_would_** go home to Alex and Jack- where Jack _would_ proceed to yell at him while beating him with that cast iron skillet he bought her as Alex watched on with that amused glint in his eyes...Again.

There were no ifs as far as he was concerned.

Determined the spy began to gather other books on Wizarding Law, Contracts, Magical Creatures, History and maybe- just maybe- a few covering the subjects of Beginners Magic and Ancient Runes- just for research purposes, of course, nothing more...

Who was he kidding?

If magic was real and he could use it, he would need it to save his skin when Jack Starbright finally got ahold of him. Unable to help himself, The spy visibly shivered as a icy chill ran down his spine before focusing his attention on the books before him.


	4. Chapter 4

Albus 'Too Many Names' Dumbledore couldn't help but frown as he sucked on a lemon drop behind his desk, staring with narrowed eyes at the slip of paper on his desk.

There was nothing all that special about it, just a piece of regular parchment paper with the name: Harry James Potter sprawled across it in his own neat yet sharp writing. Of course looks could be deceiving- one of the main reasons he had lied about losing the slip- if one was to search the seemingly plan paper for a magic signature they would surely find his own radiating off it along with the several legal and illegal spell he had used to ensure the paper was chosen by the goblet- even if he wasn't all that certain it would be chosen.

Now he couldn't very well hand that over to people who would actually look into things instead of just listening to his every word, like a good pawn should. Now could he?

They wouldn't understand that he had always suspected Harry Potter wasn't dead, just lost. After all the Prophecy clearly started that only Lord Voldemort could kill the boy and only the boy could kill Lord Voldemort. Therefore since it was a _Death Eater_ and not the _Dark Lord_ that had thrown the infant Harry Potter into the Veil of Death, the Prophecy wasn't complete.

He had to bring his weapon and had tried several legal methods before but none had worked, as far as Magic was concerned Harry Potter was dead. Then the Goblet of Fire had decided to start up again. It was far too perfect for him not to try one more time, espically since he had a scapegoat in the Death Eater posing as Moody- He would rescue Alastor at the end of the year, of course.

Until then he had another issue to ponder over, his plan had finally worked and summoned Harry Potter to Hogwarts. There was only a few issues:

The man the Goblet had summoned looked nothing as anyone theorized he would.

Instead of James' messy black hair there was sliked back and well cared for light brown- dirty blond. He did not have Lilly's exotic eyes, instead they were a common light brown.

The ignorant whelp had gone as far as to use another name instead of that of his birth. Harry Potter was a name he could rally people behind with just a few words. Ian Rider on the other had was an unknown and muggle at that- It held no value, no options- no self-respecting pureblood, some half bloods as well, wizard or witch would ever consider rallying behind a muggle.

The most noticeable was the fact this was no seventeen year old. Instead of where a teenager should have been there was a grown man in his late twenties, early thirties. Now that alone he could have easily fixed with a potion or two but then the man had gone and brought in people out of his network of control.

Which led to his current problem: How was he supposed to gain control over his weapon if there were multiple groups investigating around _his_ castle?!

One move out of line would try unwanted attention to himself which in turn could draw attention to other matters he would rather people kept their noses out of.

Frowning, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. He needed to fix this and he knew just the place to start.

With a flick of his wand, the slip of condemning paper bust into flames, curling as it burned into ashes atop his desk. With another flick, the ashes were banish and the only evidence of his involvement were no more.

* * *

There was something unnervingly familiar about Sirius Black, though Ian knew it was impossible but he couldn't help but felt as though he knew he man quite well. Sort of like an old friend you forgot you had and accidentally just ran across years later.

The feeling was annoying, constantly yelling and setting off every metal alarm the Spy had.

Though considering the other options for company Ian was rather certain he would rather have Black- despite how annoying it was not being able to pinpoint how he was familiar- and the History Teacher, Lupin, as company over the overprotective Potters, Fame Seekers- _He was not Harry Potter!-,_ Dumbledore - ** _'My name is Ian'_** \- and other such annoyances.

Hearing the soft patter of footsteps, The Spy glanced up from his book at a bushy hair teenager who silently sat across from him with a large tome in hand. Without a word, she cracked open her book midway before starting to read.

Silently relieved it wasn't another one like the blond or the rouge hair boy that had dropped by to pester him earlier by ordering him around or trying to persuade him into doing something 'Fun' instead of 'Stuffy Bookworm Things' Ian returned to his own book.

He pretended he didn't hear Black give off a soft whine at missing "Quidditch'- getting an amused smile from Lupin- before the other focused on his own tome.


	5. Chapter 5

"A stick?"

"A wand My Boy. Every Witch and Wizard needs one to cannel their magic."

"So a Stick thats a handicap."

Ian Deadpanned as he resisted the urge to reach across the desk and strangle the old man that was interupting the time he could be using finding a way home for such utter nonsense.

"A wand Harry. We'll be taking you to get your's from Olvinders today."

"My name is Ian."

"If you say so My Boy. "

A harsh glare leveled the old man who Ian was becoming more and more certian was actually some sort of selective deaf person or hidden pedophile considering how many times he had to repeatidly inform the Headmaster he wasn't His Boy or Harry Potter.

Maybe if he glared and wished hard enough his magic- if he had any- would set the man ablaze and save him from wasting a single bullet?

Unfortunately for Ian, Dumbledore did not magically bust into flames, instead he continued smiling obviously as he sucked on a lemon drop.

Turning, Ian headed for the door, half hoping to escape the questionable man behind the desk.

"My Boy, you wouldn't happen to know what size you wear do you? You'll be needing some robes while we're there."

Definitely a pedophile and these whacked up people were actually letting him run a school full of innocent, gullible children? Horrified, Ian quickly left the office without muttering word.

* * *

Sirius couldn't help but smile as he watched a silently fuming Ian Rider pace a hole into the castle floor as the other angrily mumbled under his breath about many painful and inhumane things he would like to do to the Headmaster.

"I'm taking it your meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore didn't go all that well?"

He inquired though he really didn't need to ask. Still he was hoping that Ian would open up to him, like the other had always done when he was John Rider. For a moment he could see the careful consideration in his brother's eyes before the other gave a stiff nod.

"You could say that."

Ah, typical Ian. Avoid the main issue by giving half answers and white lies to satisfy the curiosity.

"Care to tell me about it? Maybe I can help fix what's bothering you?"

For a split second, Ian's shoulder seemed to tense, much to Sirius' confusion until he begin to go other his words; hoping he didn't accidentally propose to his brother like that one time in Italy when he was drunk enough to mistake Ian for a pretty Italian woman- Helen ended up holding that over his head for years until that fateful day on the plane.

Thankfully that wasn't the case this time. Instead it was a case of unclothed words and sore memories:

 ** _"Care to tell me about it? Maybe I can help fix what's bothering you?"_**

 ** _Fourteen year old Ian Rider had glanced at his brother with a look of mild annoyance and shame rolled into one._**

 ** _"It nothing."_**

 ** _"Lair," Sixteen year old John Rider had placed himself next to his little- and favorite- brother, offering the other a reassuring smile, "Does it have anything to do with that bruise?"_**

 ** _"Maybe...a bit."_**

 ** _Chuckling softly, John had pulled his brother closer to him._**

 ** _"You know when you talk about things bothering you it helps make you feel better and I'm always here to listen. So lay it on me."_**

 ** _After a brief moment of thought and mental struggle, Ian began to talk. The more he talked the darker the look in John's eyes had gotten though it was quickly hidden away with a warm smile and bright eyes everything Ian dared to glance his way._**

 ** _After hearing Ian out and ensuring the younger went to bed and was asleep, John had snuck out to pay the Neighborhood Gang a Little Visit and teach them a Personal Lesson about attacking his brother just because they wanted to._**

"-a stick."

Sirius was cut from his memory at the voice of his younger brother, quickly his mind began to piece things together. Stick...the only stick a wizard was concerned with was their wands. So Dumbledore wanted Ian to start using a wand, that didn't seem so bad.

"I think he may be a Pedophile, in which case he shouldn't be running a school for of children."

Unable to help himself, Sirius choked on air as his brother's words registered.

* * *

"He thinks Albus is a Pedophile? Why?"

Sirius couldn't help but grin at Lilly and James, one who was looking mildly insulted yet horrified while the other looked as through they weren't sure wither to laugh or be worried.

"Well, Albus does keep calling him: My Boy, Offering him candy and asked what size he wears."

Emerald eyes flashed as Sirius finished speaking before Lilly all but jumped to her feet.

 **"His size?! Why does Dumbledore need to know that?!"**

"Robes apparently."

 **"Robes?! Madam Maklin measures everyone in her shop!"**

With furry radiating within her eyes, Lilly 'Wildflower' Potter nee Evans, Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts and Mother of the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Die, stormed from the room with one goal in mind:

The castration of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Sharing a worried glance, Sirius Black and James Potter rushed after the raging rouge hair woman.


	6. Chapter 6

After clearing up the minor misunderstanding:

 ** _'Yes we wear robes.'_**

 ** _'No not those type of Robes.'_**

 ** _'No Headmaster Dumbledore was not trying to prostitute you.'_**

 ** _'Lilly would you put away your wand!'_**

Ian made his way to the owlery for a breath of fresh air. Standing on the window still the spy had griped the edge of the castle's roof before hawing himself up, thankfully to have fount a safe place for a moments thought without too many issues.

Making himself the comfortable at the highest point he could reach, the spy laid down and glanced at the sky, half hoping it would suddenly open up and show him all the answers he was currently seeking. Of course he knew it wasn't possible but still, its not like he had anything to lose by doing so.

A part of him couldn't' help but wonder how Alex and Jack were doing without him.

Did they believe he was dead?

On another of his 'Business Trips' for the Bank?

Had someone fount his car?

Where they looking for him?

God, he hated not knowing. He needed to find a reasonable way to somehow get in contact with them, but how?

Briefly his eyes caught sight of an owl flying overhead and felt like hitting himself for his brief lax into the wizard's stupidity- Well now he knows it contagious. He really needed to get out of here soon- before trying to think of a surefire way to tell them its really him and not an imposter.

Reaching into his pocket the spy searched for a pieces of parchment and his ball point pen.

* * *

There was an owl on Ian's coffee table, holding a letter.  
Alex Rider couldn't help but stare in slight disbelieve at the ebony feathered owl as its piercing gold eyes refused to leave his brown ones as it held up the leg holding the envelope.

This was a dream, right? Just a very bad dream that was quickly turning to an all out ten on the weird factor.

Slowly taking the old fashioned envelope, the teen turned it over before glancing at the front. There sprawled in a familiar neat yet business like writing was:

 _Alex John Rider_

Frowning, for only three people he knew of knew his middle name; one which had recently been murdered, another had died while he was an infant and the last was blackmailing him into doing his dirty work- Alex turned the envelope over in his head, instantly taking note of how the flap wasn't sealed. Instead it had been carefully tucked inside to keep the continents from falling out during the trip.

Slipping the flap open, Alex dumped the continents of the envelope onto the table. A folded piece of paper and a silver watch fell onto the table top. The tump from the watch echoing in the teenagers head as he stared fixated at it.

A silver Rotex with military time set on it. Forcing himself to pick it up, the teen turned relucent spy flipped it over:

On the back was the personal engraving of three gothic symbol letters: IAR

He knew that watch, he knew it well from his childhood. After all, his Uncle had been wearing it when he died due to the fact, Ian Rider would never remove the last gift John Rider had presented him.

Swiftly pocketing the watch, Alex grabbed the paper- Who uses parchment in this day and era?- before opening it, almost tearing it in his rush. A short but simple message was scribbled onto it:

 _Alex,_

 _I'm not sure what you heard if the wreckage was fount but disregaurd it. Come to London, Leaky Couldren off Main Street. Today, 2 P.M. Looks like a ragged rundown bar on outside according to Sirius. Bring Jack._

 _Ian_

Rushing up to his room the blond hair teen threw open his closet, searching for the last birthday card his Uncle had given him- If this was a joke he was going to kill the bastard behind it. Yanking open the card, not really caring if he tore it or not, Alex place the two onto his desk, looking over each with a critical eye.

A moment later his grip tightened on both. The signatures were an exact match. The loops on the tails of the Ys and Gs, slight curves to the Ms. The further then necessary tilts to the Rs.

There was no doubt, Ian Rider had written both.

"Jack's going to kill him."

"I'm goanna kill who?"

A female voice with an American accent asked from behind him.

* * *

"Is this some sort of joke?!"

"Jack-"

"We were told he was dead! But, no, he's gallivanting around Europe without so much as a call!"

"Jac-"

"And he wants you to meet him in a Shady Bar like that?! You're fourteen! "

"Ja-"

"What type of fucked up Uncle is he?!"

"J-"

"I knew he was irresponsible but never to this degree! When I get my hands on him I'll-"

Sighing softly, Alex allowed Jack to continue on with her rant as she waved her favorite cast iron skillet around threateningly. If Ian wasn't dead now he soon would be once Jack got ahold to him.

~Somewhere in Hogwarts~

An Icy shiver raced down Ian's spine as every mental 'Jack's got Her Pan of Doom Waiting For Me' Alarm he had went off.

"Are you okay Ian?"

Remus Lupin couldn't help but ask as he watched the man visibly shudder before shrinking into himself, as if trying to have the earth swallow him whole.

"...Do you know where I can write a Will?"

Ian didn't notice the alarmed look Lupin gave him at the sudden question, his only concern was how he was going to somehow shift the angry woman's wrath onto the Headmaster and other's behind this tournament.

Let it be known, even the bravest of Riders covered before a furious woman with a cast iron skillet.

Ambrose Rider had cowered before his wife Diana.

John Rider had cowered before his wife Helen.

And Ian Rider would cower before his housekeeper Jack Starbright every time she was determined to knock his brains out for whatever stupid, reckless, or irresponsible thing he unknowingly did.


	7. Chapter 7

Diagon Alley was a crownded place with cobblestones creating the road and shops on both sides as far as the eye could see: Restuarants, Clothes, Potions, Brooms, ectra...

As he walked by one shop Ian was willing to swear he saw a jarred eye move and look dirrectly at him.

The Spy could quite honestly say he had never seen a shoping district quite like this:

Second Hand Brooms. Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. Broomstix. Gringotts Bank. Junk Shop. Leaky Cauldron- There is was. Now all he had to do was slip away by two to meet up with Alex and Jackie, if they showed.

Still for now their first stop was Gringotts. An imposing snow-white multistoried marble building located partway down Diagon Alley, near its intersection with Knockturn Alley, that towered over the neighbouring shops. There was a wooden sign hanging outside the doorway with a rythem that was more of a dare then a warning in Ian's opinion.

"Its run by Golbins."

Lupin whishpered softly to him as the brunished bronze doors opened on their own into a vast marble hall with long counters stretching along its length and doors leading off to what Ian assumed to be the vualts with what had to be aleast sixty- maybe more- small humaniod creatures with long fingers, black eyes and white sitting at them.

* * *

"Inherientce test?"

Giving a nod towards James, Ian never took his eyes off the Goblin before him.

"It is possible. For a fee."

"I'll pay it."

There was no hesitance in Ian's voice as the Goblin nodded and pulled a piece of paper and a knife from below the counter- How many people requested this if he had the necessary iteams on hand?

"Three drops should do it. "

Without hesitanting Ian dragged the blade across his palm, allowing three drops of blood to spatter on the paper. As he watched words began to form on the paper. A family tree, Ian couldn't help but realize as he watched it appear starting from his and John's names.

Ian Alexander Rider

John Rider & Helen Rider nee Becket- Alexander John Rider

Ambrose Rider & Diana Rider nee Congreve- John Rider; Ian Alexander Rider

For a moment an unnerving silence filled the room, yet for some reason Ian felt as though he could finally breathe. The test had proven it, he was Ian Rider- Son of Ambrose and Diana Rider, Brother of John RIder- and now they had no more reason to play nice or constanctly bother him.

"What about his soul?"

Every eye in the room flickered onto Lilly Potter who was firmly standing tall and proud, despite her sudden iquary.

"His Soul?"

Lupin asked after a moment when it became clear no one else was going to break the silence.

A firm nod from the emerald eyed woman was his answer.

"There's more to magic then just a physical body. He may Physically be the child of Ambrose and Diana Rider but there's still a chance he's, on some level, My Son."

The Goblin, Griphook, glanced at Ian for a moment as if asking for permision which Ian proceeded to give with a slight nod. Anything to prove he was not their child so that way he could find a way out of this contract and back to his own life and family.

"The Soul...Is a match for that of Harry James Potter."

After a brief moment in which Ian felt as though he had been shot once again, James Potter yanked the startled man into a back breaking hug.

* * *

Reaching into his pocket for his wallet as to pay Griphook, like he said he would, Ian couldn't help but be suprised as the goblin held up a hand; it's long finger postioned in a way that meant stop.

"The money for this test will be taken from the Rider Family Vault that way you will not have to pay out of pocket."

...What?

"Rider Family Vault?"

Both Ian and Sirius spoke as one in disbleief before glancing at each other.

* * *

Slipping away from the group was actually easier then Ian organially thought it would be. All he had to do was say a few well thought out words, make slight inquirements and let his seeds take root. While everyone else was either too lost in their thoughts or arguging- James and Sirius- he had managed to slip back from the group and vanished into a crowd of nearby citizens.

From there is had only been a matter or relocating the Leaky Cauldron and waiting until the deadline. It was two fifteen when Ian was considering leaving to find a local phone both on the London Side when a blond hair, brown eye teenager accompied by a woman looking to be in her late twenties, with tangled red hair and a round, boyish face.

He knew the moment Alex spotted him, as his nephew did a visible double take before speaking to Jack and making a gesture his way.

They were late but Ian susposed it was better late then never.

Ian knew the moment Jack Starbright noticed him as her eyes darkened with anger and a hand slipped inside her bag where Ian was willing to bet his right arm that her skillet was waiting inside for him.

Taking a breath to both calm his nerves and force himself not to go running the other way- it would only be worse if she had to chase you- Ian made his way through the crowd towards his nephew and Housekeeper.

* * *

"We would like to rent a Private Room, Sir."

The bartender Tom, give each of them a brief look but didn't ask any questions.

"That'd be Ten sickles for room Thirteen. "

Passing the Galloen to Tom, Ian took the room key before leading Jack and Alex up the rickety stair all the while mentally ensuring himself everything would turn out fine.

Leading them into the room, Ian took a breath as he glanced around for a brief moment as to stall before turning to explain exactly what happened.

 **Wham!**

For a moment Ian was certain he saw stars before the whole world tipped on its side and faded black.

 **Thud!** The Spy's body hit the hard wooden floor a moment later.

"You could have at least allowed him to explain himself."

Jack just shrugged as she wiped the slight blood stain from her Skillet.

"I wanted to hit him before he could get a chance to calm me down."


	8. Chapter 8

When Ian came to it was to the sound of arguging.

"Aurors...kidnapping...Eater scum..."

 **"I _only_ hit him with a skillet. He passed out on his own!"**  
Groaning softly, so the people knew he was awake, Ian forced his eyes open only to quickly shut them a moment later as the sunlight from the window blinded him.

The sound of footsteps, too light to be an adults so they had to be Alex's, moved and a moment later Ian could hear the blinds shutting.

Slowly, light brown eyes opened again and blinked a few times to rid their owner of the black spots blotting his vision. The moment he could actually see Ian was treated to the sight of James Potter curled up in a ball on the ground, his hands cupping soemthing highly vaulable to him as Lilly Potter stood between her husband and the enrage Starbright trying to get at him.

Moving his head to the side, Ian soon became aware of Sirius Black was spawled onto of a now broken table and Remus Lupin standing to the side with his hands raised in surrender, holding a broken stick in one of his hands. Alex was standing by the now closed window, his eyes never once leaving the two.

The room itself was a wreck, the funiture was thrown about and every breakable surface was smashed into what looked to be a million little, gagged pieces or just gone- porbally banished if the wizards were behind it.

The only safe place in the room seemed to be the couch someone- Probally Alex since Jack was still angry with him- had put him on.

"What the Hell happened while I was out?"

Why was it that recently every time he went to sleep he ended up waking in the Twilight Zone?

* * *

"You actually let her get away with doing that?"

Sirius couldn't help but stare at Ian as if he was insane- and maybe he was or maybe it was karma finally bititng the younger for all the times he had sat back and laughed as Helen beat on him with her skillet?- as the other held a bag of ice to his face having refused the aid of magic to heal him.

Ian gave a stiff nod as he glanced at the woman sitting next to Lilly, both taking in a low voice though not low enough as Ian was able to catch a few key words and judging by how pale James was turing so could he.

"Nine out of Ten times I did something to deserve it."

"And the other one?"

"I just fell like hitting him," Jack spot up with a grin on her face. "Ian doesn't mind," her eyes falshed dangerously as her smiled showed far too many teeth, "Do you Ian?"

Quickly Ian shook her head, noticing how her fingers crassesed the handle of her skillet like a mother would their sleeping child.

"No, of course not. "

Actually he did. It was a bit, Ian knew that. He was a spy, one of the best, he faced death on a daily basics without so much as blinking.

Terrorist, Scorpia, Asassains, Blunt, he could take it all. Just not Jack Starbright with a skillet. Never that.

Once he had been stupid enough to arguge with her about it and somehow they had ended up yelling. He wasn't quite sure what he said but he had woken in a hopsital a week later in the ICU. Since then- after six other incidents that had lead him back to the ICU, they even had a room and bed with his own name permentally there- Ian had learned to read Jack's emontions like a book and always agree with her when she was a little too angry.

"Good Boy."

For the sake his pride Ian choose to ingore the snickers from Sirius, James and Lupin along with the few comments about him being 'Whipped'.

" **Now Ian, you _will_ explain to me why you've been galivanting around Eurpoe without so much as a _'by your leave'_ or a phone call to inform us you weren't dead! Do you know how long we thought you were dead?! You didn't even have a Will!"**

Quickly Ian's head snapped up staring at the two in confusion.

"Of course I have a Will. I filed it at the Bank."

"Thats not what the Lawyer said Ian. He didn't know anything about a Will nor could anyone find one!"

Couldn't find? He had personally handed Mrs. Jones his Will three years ago! Yet Jack and Alex had none of their usual signs of lying, so the Will never did reach them. Which means...

 **That God Damned Bastard!**

Sharp eyes locked onto Alex.

"Has Blunt tried contacting you?"

For a moment Alex said nothing, his brown eyes flickered over his Uncle's face before moving down to the others hands, taking note of who his fingers curled slightly in anger, before looking back to those serious eyes.

"He has."

"What did he want?"

"Me to replace you and take up the 'family mantle',"

That settled it the first chance he got, Ian swore he would kill that no good low life bastard. It was one thing to send adults to their possible death but it was another all together to send a fourteen year old.

"There is no family mantle."

Unless you called being blackmailed into working for MI6 a family mantle. First Ambrose, then John and Ian and now they were trying to sink their posionious claws into Alex.

"But what about-"

Alex stoped talking as Ian held up a hand for silence.  
"Alex, I'm going to tell you now. If _anything_ happens to me you are to automatically go into joint custody of Jack Starbright and Yassen Gregorovich. Under **no** circumstances are you to work for the Bank."

"Gregorovich!? **He's the one that tried killing you!"**

"He is and I would still rather leave you with him then the Bank and its' _"Tender"_ cares. While Gregorovich may spend a majority of his time hunting me down for a past incident, he will not willingly hurt you."

"But-"

"Tell me something Alex, do you want to be like me when you grow up?"

Quickly the teenagers mouth snap shut, though Ian couldn't really blame him for keeping his silence. Ian didn't even want to be like this when he was young, but life never quite went the way you wanted it when you had _Manipulative Bastards_ blackmailing you first with your brother's life and then with your nephew's.

"I thought so. Remeber Alex its Joint Custody, you have Jack as well. Its not like I'm leaveing you compeltely to his care. And since I'm not KIA or MIA you really don't have to worry about it yet."

...

...

...

Not sure what exactly to say after that confession the room drifted into an unnerving silence. As both Rider stared each other down, somehow having a silent conversation with their eyes and the others akwardly shifted in their seats.

...

...

...

"So..." Jack fianlly spoke up, unable to stand the sudden silence that had befallen them any longer, "Who gets your house?"


	9. Chapter 9

Though Ian would never admit it Ollivander gave him the creeps, not in the Pedophilic way like Dumbledore but more in that _'Creepy Uncle that knows too much'_ sort of way. He was also the only man Ian had ever meet too be so happy over having so many difficulties.

Willow. Oak. Ivy. Holly. Cedar. Beech. Rosewood. Ash. Yew. Walnut. Cherry. Cypress. Vine. Homebeam. Hawthorn. Elder. Elm. Fir. Dogwood.

Exactly how many type of wood was there? Now that he thought about it wasn't some of those protected under Her Majesties Order? Deciding to pretend he didn't know about them- Its not like an arrest charge would stick, trying to explain it alone would be near impossible, and he only had one set of handcuffs on him- Ian's eyes followed the elderly man as he moved further into the back of his shop.

When the man returned he was holding a black box like one would a diamond jewel though Ian really didn't see anything all that special about the stick inside- Guns and Knives were still much more reliable- as the man presented it to him.

"Holly, Eleven inches with a Phoenix feather core. Nice and Supple."

The moment Ian picked it up he knew something was going to go wrong. It felt wrong in his hands and a quick wave proved it as everyone in the shop was blasted into the buildings wall as though a bomb had gone off between them.

"Most defiantly not."

He could hear Ollivander's voice from under a pile of knocked over wand boxes.

"Agreed," Ian grunted as he pulled himself to his feet and glanced around for Alex and Jack. Thankfully both seemed okay though a little shaken up as they were in he process of dusting theirselves off. Striding over to the counter, Ian placed the wand on top before making his way over to see if Ollivander needed any aid with freeing himself from the mound.

* * *

"I have tried every wand and this shop and not one has chosen you Mr. Rider. You're an enigma."

Strangely enough the Wand maker didn't seem all that upset about it as he all but bounced on his heels while his eyes held a gleam of eager enthusiasm.

"And that means?"

Sirius asked as he stepped closer to Ian, being an enigma wasn't a very good thing considering what witch or wizards attention you drew.

"It means a challenge; I'm going to have to craft Mr. Rider a custom wand. It'll cost more the a usual wand but it'll be worth it."

"How much?"

"It'll depend on he materials. Though no more then thirty Galleons."

Seeing nothing wrong with it, Ian gave a nod of acceptance.

"What do I need to do?"

* * *

"Thirteen and one third inches, Leopard wood with A Thestral Heartstring core. Leopard wood while rare to find is very powerful, Mr. Rider. Its shy and sneaky, its barer is often quite but extremely intelligent and loyal to those that earn it. Thestral Heartstring means you have seen a massive amount of pain, suffering sadness or death. Its must likely you are suffering from depression and have been for quite some time. 13 and 1/3 inches in length this wand is odd, it is exactly like my own and it will give you great power when used properly. This wand is meant for defensive spells and is the lord of trickery. I trust you will use it well."

Nodding, Ian pocket the wand before counting out the thirty galleons for the wand and fifteen for the sheath. Once the money had exchanged hands, Ian allowed his eyes to drift towards his nephew, who was currently giving him a look that was a painful mixture between curiosity and pity. Almost as though he had figured something out and wasn't quite pleased with it.

Choosing to ignore it- Ian couldn't handle pity form anyone, let one family- Ian offered Alex a smile, put an arm over his shoulder and led both him and Jack out before anyone else could ask any questions concerning his stick or its hidden meanings.

Just one more reason to protest the use of sticks over guns and knives. They never old any of your secrets or personality like the sticks this world was so determined to use.

* * *

Dumbledore could barely control his rage as Ollivander's head vanished from his fireplace. The wand he had ensure was made to counteract Voldemort's had not chosen Harry Potter like he and so many others had first believed it would. Instead their 'Savior' was walking around with one of the darker wands to every leave Ollivander's store.

The Sister Wand to the Dark Lords and crucial part of his master plan had rejected Harry Potter, even after all the enchantments Dumbledore had placed on it during a visit to ensure it choose his pawn. Everything was falling apart around but he refused to give. No, he would adjust and adapt this new development into his plans.

Yes, he could salvage this and with a few well words and suggestions he could use this to his own gain.

Popping a Lemon Drop into his mouth the aged wizard nodded to himself as he began to drawl up new plans to turn this development in his favor.


	10. Chapter 10

Sirius couldn't help the slight ping of jealously as he watched his Brother talk softly, so no one could hear, with his son.

A part of him wanted nothing more then to shout _'Here I am!'_ at the top of his lungs, pull the two into a bear hug and never let go, but another- larger- part of him was too terrified to do so. He could just hear Ian accusations and his son's utter distaste for a father that had been alive all these years but had never once been there.

If he was lucky Ian would only hit him instead of outright shooting him, like his Brother had done their Father the moment he had decided to resurface after pulling that _'Faked My Death'_ stunt when they were teens- luckily it was only a flesh wound.

He wasn't sure he could face Ian, let alone Alex. Especially if they were together.

If he was honest to himself he had abandoned them:

Alex onto Ian and Ian to MI6.

Sure he died in the bombing but he came back and not once did he send a sign of any sort that he was alive to either of them.

He couldn't face them, not knowing that for a time he had abandoned and then forced himself to forgot about them -sure they crossed his mind but he had always brushed them into the furthest reaches before choosing to lock them away there with his Occlumency- until Ian, his little brother had appeared in the Great Hall bleeding to death.

He dared not face them as John 'Hunter' Rider, so he chose to weasel his way into their lives as Sirius Orion Black. Sirius had done no wrong, he hadn't made or broken his promise. Nor had he abandoned his brother or son to the lacking mercies of MI6 and that bastard Blunt. Sirius was just a friend that would work his way into being their family.

And if he had his way they would never know who he had once been.

* * *

Ian frowned as he watched the student messenger Dumbledore sent for him, quickly rush out of the library to escape the scowling librarian.

Weighing of the Wands?

Like hell he would fall for such a blatant lie. Standing, the Spy gathered his book and headed for his room. Making sure to grab Alex and Jack on his way up- just in case Dumbledore tried to ask either of them to attend for him.

* * *

Dragons.

Ian couln't help but stare in utter disbelief as the animated statute he was currently holding tried to obviate his fingers. Glancing from the corner of his eye, the spy took note of how two of the other chapmtions- Delacour and Krun...right?-looked rather clam for just being told they were going to have to fight against a mothering Dragon to steal one of her eggs.

The thrid- Diggory- looked as though he was about to faint. Not that Ian could really blame the Hufflepuff- what type of idiots allowed a child to fight a Dragon for their entertainment?

 _Apparently Wizards_ , Ian couldn't help but think to himself as he heard them call out Diggory's name, who was trying and quite bluntly failing to calm his nerves. Placing a hand on the other's shoulder, Ian lowered his voice so only the Hufflepuff could hear.

"Wave your stick exuberantly. I'll do the rest but just be ready to avoid flailing limbs."

Not giving the other a chance to argue as he pushed the other out of the tent, Ian slipped out though the side himself and slipped into the branches of a near by tree. Sure this was probably cheating but it was painfully obvious that the other two Champions had cheated due to their previous lack or unbelievable reactions. He was only really evening the field.

Reaching into his pocket, Ian removed the Silencer and stranded issued gun MI6 assigned him. Taking aim, Ian waited for his signal.

He didn't have to wait long for his signal as Cedric gave a exaggerated wave of his stick and several snickers and shout about it not even being a real wand moment came from the green side of the stands. Quickly the Spy pulled the trigger twice before shuffling his way down the tree, even as the dragon hit the ground with an earth shaken bellow of pain, flailing its limbs around like a toddler throwing a fit.

No matter what species or how much armor you wore there was always one major weakness:

The eye which in turn lead to a direct passage to the brain.

Undoing the silencer, Ian pocketed both sides of his weapon, ensuring to place the gun into the inner pocket of his suit's jacket before slipping back into the tent.

 **"With an Unknown Spell, Cedric Diggory's has blinded the Dragon and retrieved the Golden Egg!"**

Just in time too, judging from the announcement.

Making his way to the tents flap Ian peeked out just in time to see the score:

Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons: 7.5

High Master Professor Igor Karkaroff of Durmstrang, former Death Eater if rum ours were to be believed: 5. Could the man be anymore blunt about his favoritism?

Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore: 10. He would need to have a word with Diggory to warn him in advance about the man's questionable intentions.

The spy still wasn't buying that 'misunderstanding' excuse not with the way the Headmaster's eyes kept twinkling every time they crossed path, which was why he warned Alex and Jack about the man.

Ian honestly didn't have a clue about who the last person was, a red hair who was probably filling in for the Ministry-he make a mental note to look into it during his free time: 8.

A total of 30.5. It wasn't that bad, a medium of sorts. Considering what his plan was Ian righteously deserved less and would probably in last place.

As Diggory entered tent Ludo bagman's voice called out their next sacrifice- sorry Champion: Fleur Delacour.

Quietly, the spy observed Delacour leave the tent with a slight bounce to her step. They would see on wither or not her confidence lasted once she was on the field and how well she could preform.

* * *

Ian could honestly say that: No, Delacour's confidence did not last- though she did have a good plan: enchanting the dragon to sleep- Especially when the dragon's snort caught her skirt on fire and ended up burning her left leg and hip.

Despite the burn she still managed to score better then Cedric as Favoritism once again showed itself.

Maxime: 10

Karkaroff: 7.5

Dumbledore: 5

The red head with a holier then thou attitude: 9

A total of 31.5. It was annoying really. She got burned yet she got the higher score, though Diggory wasn't even touched by the dragon, it was almost like they were rewarding her for being hurt.

Viktor Krum's try wasn't as thought out as hoped it would be. Blinding the Dragon, while smart wasn't actually the best idea unless you were sure it was going to fall as well. Still despite the crushed eggs. Krum was holding fist place tightly with a firm lead of 35.5.

Maxime: 8.5

Karkaroff: 10

Dumbledore: 8.5

The red head: 8.5

He would have to warn Krum about Dumbledore as well. Though it appeared Dumbledore was only interested in the male population, if scores were anything to go by. _Note to Self: Stay with Alex at all cost._

* * *

 **"And now, the Fourth Hogwarts Champion: Harry Potter!"**

 **God Damn it, how many times must he inform people that his name was Ian Rider!?** Sure the soul was the same but it been firmly recycled.

 _Why did he even put up with the constant error?_

Ian pondering to himself as the steady cheers of the crowd began to fade into confused whispers about their fourth champion. _And how did one have four Champions in a Triwizard Tournament?_ He was quite certain Tri meant Three.

 _Must be something in the Genetics._ All that inbreeding he read about was affecting these poor backwards people. Shame you couldn't literally knock sense into people, the spy shook his head in disappointment. Hitting them would probably scramble what little brains they did have.

 **"-Ian Rider!"**

Blinking as he was drawn from his thoughts by the voice of the Deputy Headmistress, Ian rolled his shoulders before heading for the tent's opening.

* * *

The noise was going to give him a headache and was defiantly riling up his dragon. Mental signing, Ian drew his stick and waited for the starting shot.

 _Nothing Fancy. Nothing showing. Just stick to the plan. Grab and go._

 **BOOM!**

The cannon went off causing his ears to ring.

"Accio Golden Egg."

Catching the eggs when it flew to him, Ian turned on heel and headed back into the tent. Enjoying the silence that had suddenly befallen the crowd.

"That's it?"

A squeaky male voice finally asked in disbelief before the tent swallowed him and the Demonic Nurse descended upon him.

* * *

"What was that Mr. Potter?"

God give him patients.

"First of all My name is Ian Rider or Mr. Rider to you. Not Potter. Secondly I retrieved the Golden Egg like assigned. There was nothing in the Rules that said I had to put in an effort, let alone risk Life and Limb for it. You're lucky I decided to even bother retrieving it as I could have rightfully left the field the moment I entered it. "

Turning that many shades could not be healthy. Ian decided as he watched Bagman's face turn pink, red, blue before settling on purple with small red and blue veins along it.

"You should probably go see a Doctor about your Blood Pressure," Ian advised before focusing on the judges and- more importantly- their scores.

Maxime: 8

Karkaroff: 3

Dumbledore: 10

The red head:9.5

30.5 wasn't so bad but much higher then Ian suspected he would get. It was a bit saddening when the only person judging you without favoritism was Karkaroff. As for the excuse of 'Judging him on his Tactical Play', Ian was still calling it what it was:

Bull Shit.

* * *

"You know what I don't understand?"

Ian glanced up at Alex and Jack, both watching him with amusement in their eyes as he tried to properly weight the golden egg.

"Why did you get the egg before leaving?"

Seriously? They hadn't figured it out?

"Its a golden egg."

"And?" Jack asked with mild confusion to her voice. Sighing Ian straightened and looked her into the eye.

"Alex. Jack. Its a _**Golden**_ Egg, meaning its _made_ of **gold**."

For a moment the two just stared blankly at him before large smile spit their faces in half.

"Once I figure out how much is here I plan to have it melted down and then sold off."

"We went Ten percent. Each."

"Deal."

What? He was a Spy not a Saint.


	11. Chapter 11

The Yule Ball.

 _What to do? What to do?_

Ian couldn't help but feel a slight annoyance as he paced in his room. He really didn't want to go- Ian was never fond of balls, even as a child- but McGonagall was quite a fierce woman when she wanted something and had made it bluntly clear the ball was mandatory for Champions to attend as they had to open it with a dance.

Which meant he would need a date but the question was who?

Frowning the spy proceeded to try to wear a hole into his flooring as his mind pondered over his limited possibilities.

He couldn't take a student- no matter how mature they were- as even the eldest of them was a good thirteen years younger then him.

Jack was out of the question as Alex had already requested she attended the dance with him as a friend.

He needed someone close to his age, but someone no one could try using to get information out of him for the other Champions or the Headmaster. Someone he could dance with that would neither demand or expect anything further from him. Someone **no** one would expect him to go with.

Eyes brightening as the answer came to him, the spy quickly rushed out of his room and down the stairs- having to abruptly stop a few times as they decided to move right as he tried to cross- with a single location in mind.

It was brilliant. No one would see it coming.

* * *

"Ian didn't get a date. Did he?"

Alex quietly asked Jack as he watched his Uncle stand by the stairway, dressed in a black suit with a light blue button up shirt beneath it. The man had outright refused to even consider dress robes and nothing anyone said could convenience him otherwise.

"Probably not," Jack sighed as she shook her head, causing crimson curls to bounce ever so slightly, "He was asked but he always turned it down saying he already had one."

Sighing softly, Alex pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to drive away the forming headache he always acquired when dealing with his Uncle's antics. For some reason the man hated Social Balls of any soft and it always lead to issues like the few times his Uncle had only attended because he had asked but instead of a real date, Ian had brought a cat or a goldfish. Then he would spend the rest of the evening in a corner, observing but never getting involved.

"You're going to have to save his dignity, aren't you?"

"Most likely."

Brilliant.

* * *

"Is that Poppy?"

Sirius couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Remus' disbelief as his partner glanced at something over his shoulder. Following the younger's gaze, a smile slipped onto the DADA's Professors face as he witnessed his brother link arms with the Matron.

"It would appear so."

They both cleaned up nicely, though he already knew his brother would. Still Poppy was quite stunning with her hair hanging down in loose curls like a silk curtain that framed her face in just the right way.

Her gown was a White Ball Gown Tea-length Vintage 1950's Short Evening Gowns with a light blue sash around her waist, highlighting both her curves and long legs. A three stand white pearl necklace rested around her neck, the color matching perfectly with her gloves and pearl earrings.

It gave her a youthful appearance, Sirius couldn't help but take note. Especially the bright smile on her face as his brother lead her onto the floor with the other Champions.

Smiling softly, Sirius watched the two glide across the room with a sense of pride. It was nice to see all those dancing lessons he had forced Ian into, when he was John, had paid off.

* * *

It wasn't a bad evening, Ian would later admit.

Poppy was good company when she wasn't in _Demonic Nurse_ mode. She didn't step on his toes nor did she want to dance the night away, instead they had shared a few dances before moving off to the side- he made sure to grab them both a glass of wine- and discussed a couple of random subjects the Matron was interested in.

No shrill giggling. No clinging to his arm like a lifeline. Just a polite civilized talk that didn't sprawl into politics or gossip.

When the night ended, Ian had escorted her back to her room like a proper gentleman before heading back to his own room with a smile alighting his face while humming softly.

He actually enjoyed himself for a change and wouldn't have any issues with a second date, should it be necessary.


	12. Chapter 12

A golden egg that sings but only when underwater.

Well it was unique but it didn't seem as big of a deal as Diggory was making it out to be. The music was only any good when underwater, put it above it and the screeching liked to bust your eardrums.

Still the fact Diggory made a deal out of it must mean there was something critical about the song.

Frowning the spy pushed his head to the surface before leaning his back against the side of the tub. There was something he was missing here.

* * *

Ian knew he was supposed to be diving into the lake to rescues whatever the wizards thought he would miss most, but the spy honestly had no intentions to do such a thing. The Wizards could go stuff their challenges and expectations of him up theirs as far as the man was concerned.

Instead his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar face or unique hairstyle of his Nephew. Unfortunately he couldn't spot it anywhere among the mass of students.

Frowning, the spy withdrew his wand and laid it on his palm.

"Point me, Alex Rider."

The stick spun in a quick circle for a moment before finally coming to a complete stop, pointing directly at the stilling waters the other champions had dived into not so long ago.

 **"ALEX!"**

 **Splash!**

Without a second thought the spy dived into the icy water, ignoring the way they chilled his bones as he focused all his enery into the reaching the bottom.

* * *

"Ah Mr. Potter has returned with his h-"

 **Crunch!**

Ian didn't bother waiting for Dumbledore to visit before his fist roughly connected to the old man's nose. Swiftly his other hand grabbed the elderly man roughly by his shoulder before yanking him downwards right as his knees went up.

 **Crunch!**

Face distorted in pain, Dumbledore staggered backwards as one hand wrapped around the area his ribs had broken while he raised his free hand as though to ward off the furious man before him.

"My boy-"

 **Snap!**

A howl of pain left the edlerly man as Ian snapped his wrist and yanked the shoulder out of its socket in one swift movement.

 **"I am _Not_ your boy!"**

Icy brown eyes locked on the man's exposed thraot. Juat one quick gesture and he would never have to worry about this man again.

Unfortunately before he finally rid him and his newphew of the man permanently, a hand wrapped roughly around his waist and yanked him away from the old fool. .

That still didn't stop him from trying to free himself as he hurled every curse and threat he know at the senile old man.

 **"Ian, stop moving, you need to calm down!"**

He knew that voice.

 **"God Damn It, Sirius! Let go, I'll kill that Bastard!"**

The grip tightened painfully around his waist.

"And that's precociously why I'm not. As much as I would _love_ for you to have a go at the old goat it's not something I want you thrown in prison for."

"It'd be worth it," Ian all but snarled.

" Alex needs you."

He hated using such an underhand tatic on his brother but as Ian went limp- Thank Merlin, if that foot had gone a little higher when the smaller was kicking him...- and light brown eyes moved to where his son was being coddled by Ms. Starbright, Sirius knew it had worked.

"Now go be a good Uncle and council your newphew."

Slowly Ian nodded causing Sirius to smile as he slowly released the smaller man. Really he should have known better.

The moment Ian was free he had swiftly moved to Dumbledore before steel toed shoes harshly connected with the man's Pride. Even as the man fell, his hands cuppiing himself, Ian had spit on him before moving to tend to Alex.

* * *

Alex Rider was not having a good day.

It had started out well like most days do then the man Ian was certain was a pedophile had asked him to help participate in the next challenge for his Uncle. He had immediately refused since he knew Ian had no intentions of actually participating before leaving for the library.

He had chosen not to inform his Uncle about the little run in as he was quite certain he had dealt with it properly on his own.

After a few hours spent helping Ian with his research, Alex had pardoned himself to go for a walk and maybe find something more interesting to do.

He had just passed the Groundkeeper's cottage when something had hit him in the back and the world when black. When he woke again he was soaking wet and chilled to the bone with only his Uncle's firm hold keeping his head above the icy water.

It didn't take him long to piece together what exactly had happened. A part of him seethed even as his Uncle dragged him onto the docks and a towel was wrapped around him in an attempt to ward off the chill. At least Ian was able to exact some sort of revenge, though a part of him personally wanted to exact his own sort of revenge on the old man.

Thanks to the old Bastard he was going to have to go through both Jack's over bundled mothering and Ian's awkward counseling.

* * *

Ian was far too anger to stay for the scoring, so he had left early with Jack and Alex tough Poppy had been kind enough to inform him he had managed to score second place- something about amusing the other judging with his actions against Dumbledore- with a score of thirty one. The only person to score higher had been Krum with a score of thirty seven.

Ian honestly didn't care.

He had Alex to worry about though he had managed to get Poppy to check the Lad over. Thankfully there was nothing permanently wrong with his Nephew. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said about Delacour's sister, who had been stuck underwater for four days after the Mere-People had refused to release their captive- apparently they had some issues with anyone containing Veela blood in their veins.

As far as Ian was concerned it was further proof the old Pedophile deserved everything he got. That Bastard had risked Alex's life and if could he would neuter and kill the old man, unfortunately no one was willing to leave him alone with the man long enough for the Spy to complete the deed.

 _Shame._

* * *

That last task did not go the way Dumbledore had quite planned.

Sure he had acquired - though not quite through legal channels- something his weapon would surely miss. It had marvelous watching as understanding and horror had filtered across the other's face before he had dived into the lake. Everything had gone perfectly according to plan.

At least until the muggle boy was safely wrapped in a towel and his caretakers arms. Then a savage look had passed though those icy eyes, it was the only warning he had received before the furious pawn had descended upon him. It had been a painful lesson, Dumbledore thought to himself, _even a pawn could overthrow a King given the right motivation._

A lesson that had landed him a week long stay in the hospital as they were issue fixing his Pride. Apparently that last kick had knocked one of his weights out.

Still no matter how well using the muggle boy had worked, Dumbledore had firmly decided he would need a new plan to control his pawn. That one had too many dangerous side effects to both him and his person.


	13. Chapter 13

Yassen Gregorovich frowned softly to himself as he read over his newest assignment- a mild annoyance seeing as he had still yet to locate Ian Rider and his recently MIA nephew, Alex.

Apparently he was to check out some place called Little Hangleton, a small village that had been having quite a few mysterious death over the past few years. Death that had stopped some fourteen years ago only to recently start up again.

His current task was to locate whoever was behind the killings and kill them -as the person had so far killed four undercover Scorpia Members wither by accident or not was debatable- since Julia Rothman had finally decided to put her foot down.

His search for both Riders would have to wait.

 _Shame. For now though the Rider Mystery would have to wait._

* * *

A Hedge Maze.

A part of Ian couldn't help but wonder on wither or no a minotaur was waiting inside for him but Ian quickly dismissed the thought. Wizards couldn't possibly be _that_ stupid.

Frowning ever so softly to himself the spy pondered over his previous thoughts and the actions the wizards had committed during the brief time he had been here. On second thought, they may actually be.

 **"-Potter! Its your turn!"**

And would it kill them to get his name right? Ignoring the scarred man trying to gain his attention, the spy sat on the grass while thinking over the multiple ways this backwards society had ruined the last three months he had to waste here. And where was his lawyers and detective? Surely they should have discovered something by now.

Making a mental not to do his own investigation into the matter, Ian never saw the spell that hit him in the back. Though he sure as Hell noticed the carnivorous plant that tried to make lunch out of him.

~Meanwhile back at the entrance~

Every eye turned to Mad Eyed Moody as the paranoid man pocketed his wand with an air of annoyance surrounding him.

"What?" The scarred man asked as he finally noticed everyone watching him with an air of disbelief, "He wasn't going to move otherwise!"

Mentally, Barty Crouch Jr. couldn't help but sigh, The things he did for his Lord and Master.

* * *

 **God Damn It!**

What was it with Wizards and strange but dangerous creators?

Blast-Ended Skrewts, Chimaera, Flesh-Eating Slugs, Sphinxes -So far they were his favorites-, Acromantulas- eh could have done without those. Thank you very much-, Boggarts, Carnivorous plants, a psychotic Krum.

Don't even get him started on that last one. That kid had serious issues and though it was necessary, Ian wasn't all that proud of beating a person thirteen years younger then him unconscious. Hopefully the wizards had followed his flare and fount Krum before anything else in here could- the kid needed a psychiatrist not death.

* * *

Cedric Diggory could feel his annoyance arising as he stared at the grown man, people were claiming was Potter but obviously couldn't be, across from him. Ian Rider was a stubborn bastard, of that the Hufflepuff was certain.

He had been through Hell going through the maze to reach the trophy only to come across said man sitting on the stairs before it. For a moment, the Hufflepuff had tensed as he fingered his wand, hoping to every deity listening that Rider wasn't affected with whatever madness consumed Krum.

Thankfully someone was listening as the man was quite sane and well in his own mind. Unfortunately, the other was refusing to grab the trophy despite having obviously beating the Hufflepuff to it.

"Why don't we grab it together?"

"I would rather not."

Annoyance bloomed through the Hufflepuff, he was about ready to pull out his hair with the way things were going.

Grabbing a fistful of the back of the man's jacket, Cedric used his other hand to grab the trophy. A spit second later the feeling of being pulled somewhere by his navel filled the Hufflepuff who instantly recognized it as the feeling a Portkey gave travelers.

* * *

Creepy Graveyard? Check.

Mysterious Fog? Check.

Creepy Old House in Background? Check.

"Do you think its part of the challenge?"

"No, I think you should get your stick out."

The whole place reeked of a Stereotype villain setting if Ian ever saw one. Now where was-

 **"Kill the spare!"**

A shrill voice demanded from the fog. Ah, there it was.

Acting more on instinct, Ian grabbed Diggory and used his superior weight to bring them both to the ground as an emerald green jet of light flew where the Hufflepuff's head once was.

He was forced to push the younger away from him as another stream of emerald landed where they had both been moments before.

"Accio Trophy."

With a quick flick of his wand the spy sent the Goblet at Diggory's chest. The moment it touched the boy vanished into thin air leaving the Spy alone in the fog filled graveyard with whoever was out there. Quickly he moved behind the nearest tombstone as a crimson light missed his face by a matter of millimeters.

Seeing as green was meant to kill, Ian wasn't quite certain he wanted to find out what red could do.


	14. Chapter 14

Apparently red knocked a person out and give them a terrible headache, Ian thought ideally to himself as he tested the limits of the- strangely firm- ropes binding him to a tombstone.

Wizard, even when they were trying to kill you they were backwards.

Speaking of backwards, that was one ugly baby. Though despite how hideous it was Ian really considered it overkill to just dump it into a boiling cauldron of what looked to be Toxic Waste.

Gee Ian knew people hated growing up, but a part of him considered it cheating to just skip all those years- and puberty- with just someone else's flesh and another another's blood. Though the man- could you even call it that?- that came out wasn't all that better then the baby that went it.

Then there was the issue of this guys minions. What was the point of having them wear a mask if you were going to call them all by name before yanking their mask off?

The Dark haired man sighed softly as he worked on finishing cutting the ropes to free himself.

 _Amateurs._

* * *

"Ah, Harry Pot-

The snake like man turned before freezing as his eyes moved over the now free Rider.

"You're not Potter."

Finally someone with enough common sense to notice without him having to constantly repeat himself.

"No, I'm not."

"But then, where is he? Barty said Potter was coming?"

It was strange how someone so feared could sound so much like a disappointed child.

"He died when he was two," Ian swore he saw the man(?) bristle as if insulted.

"Died? How?!"

Defiantly insulted.

"One of your men threw him into the Veil of Death according to the papers", Ian couldn't help but give the snake like man a look of disbelief, "Shouldn't you notice this already?"

The man flushed in embarrassment- was this really their so called _Dark Lord_?

"Soul Fragments expelled from their bodies don't get newspapers."

"...Right."

The man straightened himself, squaring his shoulders, as he cleared his throat.

"Well was planning a marvelous duel against Potter where I would other throw and kill him before restarting my reign of terror but since he's already dead I suppose you shall have to take his place."

"I'd rather not. I might not fit the requirements you're looking for."

Ian admitted, the idea of being killed really didn't suit well with anyone.

"Nonsense. Look at you already freed from the bindings, Potter would have probably had to wait till I freed him," The man nodded to himself with full convection in his voce as he spoke," I'm sure you'll be a Great Adversely, eh...What's your name?"

Mentally Ian couldn't help but sign as the other gave him a sheepish look. What type of _'Dark Lord'_ was this? He knew toddlers that were scarier then this man.

"Ian Rider."

"Ian Rider," The snake like man repeated as he rolled the name on his tongue as if trying out a meal for the first time, "Yes, Rider. Sounds much better then Potter, more dignified. Well then Rider, do you know how to Duel?"

"Not really," Ian confessed as a hand reached into his jacket pocket, fingers lightly curling around the handle to his gun.

"No matter, just try to dodge a bit and throw a few spells back at me. "

Without waiting for a response the man flicked his stick in Ian's direction causing that dangerous emerald light to sail for the spy's face.

Acting on relaxes, the spy threw himself to the side while drawling his gun in one swift move and fired.

* * *

Wizards.

Oh course, they were always behind every little issue that made no sense or left multiple of people without memories of said issue. Honestly, Yassen felt like a fool for not having been able to piece it together without having to witnessed the light show going on in Little Hangleton's graveyard.

As the assassin made his way closer he could make out an unconscious man leading against a broken headstone wearing a black cloak and a skull mask: Death Eater.

Great. They probably had some Muggleborn or Muggle in there.

Pureblooded bastards.

One of them was probably who he was supposed to be putting down but the question was which?

 **BANG!**

The gunshot rang loud and was the only warning he really got before the killing curse sailed at least a mile overhead and someone rushed into him.

For a brief moment all Yassen saw was stars dotting across his vision though he quickly blinked it away as the body on his lifted slightly and a familiar voice spoke.

"Gregorovich?"

Dark hair. Light brown eyes. Pale skin. Clothes a little bit worn yet there was no mistaking that face or the firm voice.

"Rider."

The scowl he was rewarded told him exactly how he other felt about seeing him, even as the other tried to get off him and stand. Noticing the curse aimed for the man's back, the Russian pulled the Spy back down onto his chest.

 **"What the Hell did you do Rider?!"**

 **"Me?! I didn't do anything!"**

For some reason Yassen fount that hard to believe.

* * *

Something was wrong Alex knew it from the moment Diggory had returned without his Uncle and that underlined fear had only grown as he listened to the Hufflepuff go on about a graveyard and someone trying to hit him with 'the Killing Curse'.

The Minister of course wasn't buying it and was outright denying such a thing happened claiming that Ian was probably somewhere in the maze, though once it was lowered even he couldn't deny Ian Rider was no were to be fount.

The most disturbing thing in Alex's opinion was the Headmaster's reaction:

He was too calm, almost as if he had expected this to happen and the blond had overheard the elderly man whispering to himself about someone named Tom before encouraging the Hufflepuff's story. It was obvious to Alex that the old coot knew something.

After what seemed like an eternity the Minister had agreed to use some sort of spell that would transfer them to the last place the Goblet turned Trophy turned Portkey had been. What they arrived at was nothing sort of a battle field.

There were bodies of men cloaked in black- some wearing skull like masks- sprawled out across the graveyard, some over tombstone and other on the damp grass.

Chunks of several tombstones were missing, as if they had been blow away by some sort of focused blast, and others stained a startling crimson. A cauldron laid tipped over with what looked to be Toxic Waste spilled onto the earth.

Yet no matter where Alex looked there was no sign of Ian Rider. The only sign his Uncle had even been there was the Spy's gun, which he had fount in the rubble of one of the larger tombstones that had been knocked over and shattered. What worried Alex most though was the blood-on one of the larger pieces of stone- that had small tuffs of his uncle's hair on it.

He could see everything.

Ian crouching behind the larger tombstone for shelter as spells- probably the Killing Curse Cedric mentioned- sailed overhead. Someone must have used another spell or curse to knock over and shatter the tombstone which would have fallen forward, right on top of Ian Rider. Most likely with enough force the knock the Spy unconscious.

The second pair of shoeprints in the damp soil, suggested another person had been here with Ian, they must of dragged Ian away. Yet that left the issues of the footprints turning slightly before vanishing.

A means of transportation probably? Wasn't there one you could do with two people that only involved you needing to give a quarter spin?

Either way, Ian Rider had once again vanished without a trace.

Once again something had stolen his own living family- the man that had raised him as his own- from him.


	15. Chapter 15: Sneak Peak

**And that Ladies and Gentleman is the end of our current Episode:** ** _A Potter not a Rider._** **We would like to thank all those that supported us thought-out this short trifle and hope you'll be around for the next Episode.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Skipper Classified**

 ** _Now for a sneak peak into the next Episode:_**

 _The Missing Rider_

 _He wasn't sure what possessed him to take the Unconcious Spy with him. There had been no real threats left standing as those too foolish to flee had quickly fount themselves on the business end of his Beretta 92FS Inox 9x19mm. The most danger the other faced in that brief moment was a concussion at best, temporary memory lost at worst._

 _Yet even as his eyes had landed upon the Unconcious Brit among the rubble, Yassen had fount himself moving towards the other man. Without a thought he had pulled one of the man's arms around his neck while wrapping his own arms around Rider's was it to support him._

 _He had dragged the man a few feet away from the rubble before spinning ever so slightly on heel. A moment later both men were gone with a soft, unheard Crack!_

 _The last time he had been to Gregorovich Manor was before the annihilation of Estrov, a village in Russia his family had lived in. He could honestly say it was the last place he wanted to be - there were far too memories haunting those hallow halls- but the best available option to place the Spy._

* * *

 _"Alex Rider?"_

 _Glancing up the blond couldn't help but narrow his eyes ever so slightly at the Officer before him, there was something off about the man. But what, Alex couldn't quite pin._

 _"Yes Sir?"_

 _"You're Under Arrest."_

* * *

 _"I was looking for Ian."_

 _Blunt's beady eyes narrowed as the thin line of his lips pressed further together._

 _"Ian Rider is Dead."_

 _"I didn't see a body in the casket."_

* * *

 _"Sorry I'm late."_

 _Both Alex and Blunt glanced to the man who had forced his way into the office._

 _"And who are you?"_

 _Blunt's voice was chipped and cold, showing his displeasure at the sudden intrusion. Finding himself the certain of attention, Sirius allowed a charming smile to slip onto face._

 _"Me? Why I'm Alex's lawyer, Sirius Orion Black."_

 _Placing the Muggle suitcase he bought just for this event on Blunt's desk, Sirius allowed his grin to grow._

 _"I have to admit; I was a bit startled to find my Client had been arrested without myself being informed but It was probably just a mix up in paperwork."_

 _Fixing the nonexistent problem of his tie, Sirius took his place firmly at Alex's side._

 _"Now then would you care to inform me what my client is being charged with?"_


End file.
